The roses in the garden have withered away. After time has washed away, what is left?
It doesn't matter if you feel free to despise me for the inspiration you get from listening to music after being squeezed by the door. =_,=
This is actually a short story that I unintentionally deceived. As for the reason for posting it... Can I say that if I don't post it, I will die from the stars OTL
Come, be angry, I look upon you lovingly.